On the village highway also
Works and wins he over all,
From the threshing floor to stable--
From the sheepfold to the stall.
His approaching, sorrow follows--
On his coming, follows need,
On his greeting, follows sickness,
On his hand-shake Death succeeds!
So he seeks in all directions,
East and West and South and North--
And in empty field embraces
Thankfully his friend the Frost!
FOFANOW.
FADED THE FOOTSTEP OF SPRING FROM OUR GARDEN
Faded the footstep of Spring from our garden,
Sighing the Autumn wind vanishing goes,
Behold now, how close to us dreams are approaching--
Love, it is time for repose!
List, how the leafage in raindrops all tearful
Trembles and wails for a sorry defeat,--
All that was ours, that we once proudly boasted,
All, was a glittering cheat.
Dark as a funeral pall hanging over,
Fluttering clouds in their mockery close;
Sighing within us is silenced our singing--
Love, it is time for repose.
Deceitful from heaven's fair emerald rainbow,
Soft borrowed glamour of moonbeams doth woo;
Since even you to my faith were disloyal,
Love, my false Springtime were you!
Soon will the sunbeams last radiant shining
Trackless be hurled where the Autumn wind blows,
Slumber enmeshes my soul and the darkness--
Love, it is time for repose!
FOFANOW.
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